


To Spend One Night With You

by wingedchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Blow Jobs in a Car, Cheating, Cheating Castiel, Daddy Kink, Destiel - Freeform, Dirty Talk, Existent Songs, F/M, Fluff, Guys idk what the hell I'm doing but I'm doing it, Hand Jobs, Hotel Sex, M/M, Marriage, Mentions of abusive childhood, Phone Sex, Rimming, Romance, Sexual Confusion, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Singer Dean, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-12 15:44:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2115597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingedchester/pseuds/wingedchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Novak has been very unhappily married to Meg Masters for several years, yet he has no choice but to stay in his broken marriage for one reason only, and that reason is his daughter, Emily, who is five years old and by far the most important thing in Castiel's life. One day, when Castiel takes his daughter for her first tap dance lesson, he meets the dance instructor, Dean Winchester, who is without a doubt the most beautiful man he has ever laid eyes on. After getting to know one another, Castiel and Dean quickly develop romantic feelings towards each other and Cas suddenly finds himself torn between sticking with his loveless marriage for the sake of his daughter, or being with someone who truly makes him happy for the first time in years.</p><p>(Just so you guys know, there will be scenes where Dean sings "original" songs that he has written himself, yet they're actual songs in real life and I will attach links to here them when we get there!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Most Beautiful Man

If Cas was completely honest, he hated his marriage.

He hated his marriage. He hated how his wife came home from work in a default shitty mood. He hated it when she yelled, and not necessarily when she was angry but just in general, like when she was yelling to him from the next room. He hated how she never looked at him when she spoke to him. He hated the way his name sounded when she said it. He hated how they had sex, if they ever had sex at all anymore, and how she always sounded like she was just waiting for it to be over the entire time through. He hated the way she undressed, and not because he didn’t find it sexy (even though he didn’t), but because she did it in a way that reminded Cas of a snake shedding its skin, like it was slithering out of dead pieces of itself.

He didn’t know how it came to this. He remembered how beautiful he thought she was when they first met in college. Meg Masters. Five feet and four inches and a psychology major, with chocolate brown hair and pretty brown eyes that crinkled around the edges when he made her laugh. She had the smoothest skin he had ever put his hands on, and when they made love he tried so hard not to bite her too much and ruin it, but his efforts always ended in defeat. Her friends made fun of the marks that had so suddenly started to appear on her skin after they started dating- love bites on her arms and neck and chest and thighs and basically anywhere there was skin showing. She smiled and sunbeams would emanate from her every part of her. She wanted to see the world someday, and Cas wanted to be there with her when she did.

Now he couldn’t even stand to sit in the same room with her. Her eyes had hardened and when she looked at Cas (which was rarely these days), he could feel his throat closing. When she laughed it was in the presence of others and it was about as genuine as her marriage. Her skin didn’t feel as smooth as it once did. To Cas it felt worn out. It wasn’t, he knew that. Honestly, it was still very soft and tender, but when Cas stopped loving her he stopped feeling it that way and there was no way to go back to it. She no longer wanted to see the world. Now all she wanted was an empty house, to be alone in by herself, so that she didn’t have to pretend that she still loved Cas, too.

She hated him back. He could almost hear her screaming it in her mind, and he screamed it back to her. When he woke up in the morning, he would look over and see how she always ended up curled away from him in her sleep, and he didn’t mind at all- he simply turned back around and pretended that she wasn’t lying a few inches away from him.

They met when they were nineteen. Now, they were thirty-four and breaking apart inside. Their marriage had slowly been pulled apart in golden strings and all that was left was air. Empty, and emotionless. They both knew it. They both hated it. But they both accepted it, too. There was a very small chance that they would get a divorce, and the reason was their daughter.

Emily, her name was, and for Cas she made up for everything that was otherwise taken away from him. There was love and wonder and happiness in everything that she did and if there was anything that Cas was most proud of in his entire life, it was her. Entire galaxies existed in her dark, lovely eyes. At five, she was better than Cas could ever be.

He wanted her to have anything she wanted, but he knew that he couldn’t give it to her, and so as a sacrifice he promised himself that he would not leave her mother, at least until Emily was all grown up and away from the warzone that was his marriage. He and Meg put up a front for her on a daily basis, and smiled and kissed and played nice so that their daughter would never know what it was like to hate someone you were suppose to love. But at 2:00am there were often times where they would spew words at each other and cut themselves on the sharpness of their own voices. Yelling in whispers, so that Emily couldn’t hear.

Thirteen more years, he told himself. Just thirteen, until Emily is an adult, and she’s gone from this.

* * *

And so, at 5:00am on a Monday morning in early September, Castiel Novak woke up and heavily sighed before even getting the chance to open his eyes.

It was like this most mornings, and he internally struggled between staying in bed for the rest of the day or getting up to fix Emily her usual breakfast of eggs and toast. When he woke up sometimes he forgot that he was living lovelessly and it was warm where he was. Then, after a few moments, his life would start to come back to him in bits and pieces and he would shut his eyes, trying to will himself back to sleep where he was far, far away. Wherever he could not be found. But on this particular morning, he decided that since he might as well not be late for work (for the 100th time), he would get up and prepare breakfast instead.

He stretched, with his hands balled into fists above his head and opened one eye to look over and see if Meg was still breathing. After confirming that she was, in fact, still alive, he sat up and slipped his house slippers on before scuttling into the bathroom and brushing his teeth.

Downstairs, he dragged himself about in the kitchen, frying eggs in a pan while grabbing three plates from the cupboard and setting them down on the counter. The house was quiet and he was happy in a sort of unhappy way. He was alone, or at least he thought so. As he dropped two pieces of toast into the toaster, he could hear a chair being dragged across the floor behind him.

“Morning,” Meg said in an empty voice.

Wonderful.

“Morning,” Cas answered, without looking at her.

He wished she would go away. He wished he didn’t hate her, but mostly he just wished she would go away. Go back go bed, go _somewhere_ else and leave him alone. Go where she was happy. Because despite everything, he still wanted the best for her. It wasn't like he wanted her dead or anything, he just didn't want to be with her for more than a minute at a time. Was that too much to ask?

He pursed his lips and flipped the eggs in the pan over, pretending that she wasn’t sitting at the breakfast bar behind him. He was doing fine, too, until she spoke.

“So, I’ve been meaning to tell you…”

Cas sighed.

“Um, for Emily’s birthday I decided- I know she wanted to take tap dance classes like her friend does, Bailey or whatever her name is, and so I decided to sign her up for some.”

Cas nodded, flipping the eggs over one last time before sliding his spatula under them and dropping them onto the first plate.

For weeks now, Emily had been going on and on about nothing but dance class. She was obsessed with the idea. When she was three, she had taken ballet for a few weeks until one of the other children got into a scuffle with her and the teacher had ended up kicking them both out of the class, and that was supposedly the last of any dance classes for her. But newfound friends in her kindergarden class had convinced her that taking up the skill would be bundles of fun. She would practice in the living room and in the kitchen and down the isles at the grocery store, aimlessly trying to convince her parents to let her join in on a session.

“She’s signed up to have her first class today, and I need you to take her,” Meg added pointedly.

“What time?”

“Four.”

“I get _off_ at four,” Cas said in annoyance, and turned around to look at Meg with exasperation. She sat with her arms folded and her head lying on top of them on the counter. Her eyes were closed, but she made a face at Cas.

“You get _off_ at 3:45- you’ll have time to drive to the babysitter’s house quickly and pick her up from there. It’s only like five minutes away. I have a meeting today and I can’t do it myself.” She opened her eyes and looked at him, and Cas resisted the urge to turn away from the way she glared. “Unless you don’t want her to go.”

He shook his head at her, before rolling his eyes and turning back to the breakfast.

He hated her. He hated their marriage.

It was unfair, the way she used Emily to get her way. And she did it more often than any parent should use their own child against the other. But it worked, and she knew that. Cas loved Emily more than he loved himself, and much more than he loved Meg. But it came at a price to him because he hardly denied Emily of anything that her mother would propose. And Meg hardly did anything for Emily that she would follow up with herself. It was always, “Cas, take Emily to her friends house, I told her she could go.” “Cas, go get Emily those new shoes she asked for, the pink and white ones, I promised her she could have them.” It was all up to Cas, and he was glad that his daughter had him because if it was just Meg she would have fucked it all up a long time ago.

“Fine,” he said in a deadpan voice, cracking two more eggs into the pan.

* * *

 At 3:45, Cas locked the door to his office and checked his watch as he hurried out of the building.

Castiel worked as a lawyer- something that he didn’t necessarily love, but he enjoyed better than being at home. It was bearable for him, and despite the long hours and frustrating clients, he was lucky enough to be one of the few people to actually enjoy the company of his coworkers. For many of them, he would even go so far as to say were some of his best friends. Gabriel, who worked in the office next door, was funnier than most people and was a damn good lawyer. Balthazar worked down the hallway, and was a daring man who took on clients that no other lawyer would even consider- and won their cases, more often than not. Sam Winchester, as well. Sam was a little young (only twenty-seven) and naive, but he picked up quickly and was a determined worker. Cas was the first person he became friendly with when he first started working at the office, and the two had remained close since then.

When Sam had come into Cas’ office that day to ask him a question about one of his clients, they ended up talking for a few minutes and Cas mentioned the dance classes he was taking Emily to after work, and was surprised to learn that they were, in fact, taught by Sam’s older brother, Dean.

“Your brother dances?” Castiel asked, somewhat startled.

“Oh, yeah. I mean, it's his second job. He mainly works at a auto repair shop- Singer's, it's called?" Cas was familiar with the name. "He was a dance major at Wichita. He's really into all those performance arts, like singing and stuff. He plays guitar too. But when I heard that he wanted to dance for a living, it kinda made me...I don’t know, suspicious? My dad and I both have our assumptions about him.” Sam had his shoulder propped against the doorframe and looked behind him to check that no one was near, before turning back to Cas and mouthing the word: “Gay.”

After Sam left, Cas couldn’t help but ponder the idea. It didn’t bother him that a male was going to be teaching Emily’s class, but Cas wondered what he was going to be like. He hoped he would be as likeable as Sam was. He wondered if what Sam had said was true. That Dean was gay.

He decided to stop thinking about it. He didn’t care if Emily’s dance teacher was gay. He just wanted to get his work done and then go see his daughter. Maybe he would be able to stay for a few minutes and watch her during class.

 

* * *

Traffic, Cas realized a few minutes later, was something the he had not taken into consideration, as he tried his best to weave in between cars on the road and move as fast as he could.

Emily's babysitter, Naomi, was twenty years old and a little strange, but Cas liked her- in a completely friendly type of way. And Emily was obsessed with her. She lived in a tiny white house with red trim and often times when Cas was picking up Emily they were either chasing each other around the front yard or inside the house or Emily was painting a picture of her and Naomi or clinging to Naomi's pants. 

On this particular day, however, Castiel pulled up alongside the curb of Naomi's house at 4:03 and saw that she and Emily were sitting patiently on the front step, his daughter's My Little Pony backpack secured on her shoulders and her hair pulled back into two ponytails most likely done up by her babysitter. When she saw her father, her face broke out into a wide smile and she bounded down the driveway towards him, her hair bouncing with each step. Castiel stepped out of his car and opened his arms out to her, who jumped up and hugged her father tight around his neck.

"Daddy's sorry he's late, pumpkin," Cas assured, and with one hand waved goodbye to Naomi, who waved back before heading inside the house and closing the front door.

"It's ok, Daddy," Emily giggled, and kissed her father on the cheek. The two secured themselves inside the car, and after making sure she was buckled in, Cas sped away from the curb and towards their next destination. 

At 4:09, Cas was ushering his daughter up to the front door of the dance school. The words “Robin Roger’s Dance School” were painted in red letters across the front windows, and inside the walls were decorated with paintings of dancers and framed photographs of children with pointed toes and cheeky smiles. An elderly woman sitting behind the front desk pointed Cas and Emily in the right direction towards her tap class, and Emily bounded down the hallway ahead of Cas, clad in black leggings and dance shoes and a pink t-shirt. He watched her with glee. Such a tiny thing and yet full of so much energy, practically bursting with excitement. When she disappeared from his sight as she rounded a corner, he picked up the pace and ran after her. At the end of the hallway, a door marked “Tap Dance” was closing with Emily making her way inside the room. Cas hurried up to the door and burst through it.

“Emily! Wait-”

His voice caught in his throat.

The room was bright, but in a very pleasant, open sort of way. Sun beamed in through windows on the back wall of the room, and the floors were wooden and scrubbed clean. To the left, there was a wall completely covered by a floor to ceiling mirror, and a dance bar stretched from one end to the other. To the right, a row of young students Emily’s age were lined up on the floor, sitting crosslegged with their arms stretched above their heads, their fingers fluttering towards the sky. Parents were sat against the wall by the door in a row of chairs, all watching Cas as he bumbled in. And in the middle of the room, basked in sunlight, was the most beautiful man Cas was certain he had ever laid eyes on.

He had freckles, that’s the first thing Cas noticed. They peppered his his cheeks and nose. The second thing Cas noticed was his eyes. They were green but also they were speckled with gold and brown and plainly gorgeous and Cas wondered if he had ever seen eyes like that in his entire life. And the eyelashes, _goddamn_ , they were long and lush and when the man blinked they brushed against his cheek slightly. He had light brown hair, and a mouth that was all pink and pretty and there was a hint of stubble shadowing his face.

He was sat on the floor, facing the row of children, with his legs crossed his arms stretched above his head like his students. When he stretched, the muscles in his arms flexed in a delicious way that Cas was certain he never saw in another human being. Cas didn’t even have time to ponder this for more than a few seconds before the man spoke.

“Can I help you?”

As if his looks weren’t enough.

Castiel nearly collapsed. His voice was gruff- he sounded deep and beautiful. He stared at Castiel in expectancy, and it was only when Cas could feel Emily tugging at his hand that he was pulled out of his reverie.

“ _Daddy_ ,” she exasperated.

“I…” Cas looked back at the man. He lowered his arms, unfortunately, but instead decided to cross them over his chest which made his muscles look just as heavenly.

“I’m sorry,” Cas murmured. He looked back at Emily, who eyed him curiously.

“Can I help you?” the man repeated, this time with aggravation seeping into his voice.

“M-My daughter is signed up for this class,” Cas said, sounding unsure of himself.

“Oh?” was the answer, and the man’s green eyes shifted to Emily. “Oh...ok. Um,”

He stood up from the floor. Cas’ eyes followed him eagerly, drinking in the sight. His legs were bowed, and Cas’ mind was suddenly filled with images if his fingers tracing up and down the sides of those muscular legs. He was wearing a black and green striped shirt, and grey basketball shorts. Cas was almost embarrassed at the way he stared, but then he decided that he actually didn’t care at all because this was a man was so completely unreal and perfect that Cas might as well remember him as well as he could before he woke up from what was obviously a dream.

“I’m Dean,” he introduced, and Cas was pulled again from his own thoughts back into reality.

“Dean?”

Sam’s brother. Dean. How could he have forgotten? The one Sam said he was pretty sure was…

Gay.

“Yep. That’s me,” Dean assured. He held a hand out to Emily, who walked over unabashedly and shook it in delight. “Hi sweetheart, what’s your name?”

“Emily,” she answered, and Dean bowed his head.

“Hi Emily. It's very nice to meet you. I like your pigtails.”

Emily grabbed at one and giggled a small “thank you.”

“You can go over there with the other students, kiddo. You’re just in time for our stretches.” He sat back down, and his eyes shifted back over to Cas. “You can have a seat, sir, unless you’re just dropping her off.”

Cas was suddenly aware that he was standing very awkwardly, gawking at Dean like he was some sort of museum exhibit, and he quickly shuffled over to a seat beside one of the other parents. He decided that staying to watch the class couldn't hurt, if only for a few minutes...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, so I hope you liked the first chapter! I usually don't get to write as much as I'd like to, but I'm going to try to beat out at least one chapter every week until it's finished! I don't know how many chapters I'm going to end up making this but hopefully it'll be sufficient! Let me know what you think, I'm always taking suggestions!


	2. Someone Who Makes Me Happy

For Castiel, "a few minutes" turned into twenty, and then into thirty, which turned into forty-five, and before he knew it an hour had gone by and all he could do was sit and gawk at all 6'2 of freckled skin and bright green eyes that was Dean Winchester. He hadn't meant to stay that long. He planned on sticking around just long enough to see that Emily was comfortable, and then go home and maybe doing the dishes or mowing the lawn or something. How strange it was, he seemed almost _glued_ to the chair- like it was impossible for him to stand up!

Oh well, better make the most of it while he could.

And Dean. His eyes followed Dean inexhaustibly, watched Dean flex his hands and laugh with the children. Cas admired the way he was with his students. He practiced a patience that, even as a parent, Cas found incredible. Many of the kids were too loud and rambunctious, but where Cas found himself irked with their behaviors, Dean appeared to find it endearing. When he laughed he thew his head back and slapped his hands against his thighs, giving Cas reason to smile. _  
_

Just as the class was about to end, Dean turned towards the students.

"Ok guys!" he announced. He clapped his hands together, and the kids all looked at him with beaming eyes, bouncing on the tips of their toes and waiting for their teacher's next instruction.

"One more time before everyone goes home, ok? Quickly, come on. Get into your spots. Ok, I'm count it out and we'll all do it together. Ready?"

Castiel watched as Dean turned to face the mirrored wall and counted out a steady, "One, two, three, four...". On the next beat, he and his students set into their tap routine.

There was something enrapturing about the way Dean moved, and Cas loved all of it. His body was fluid and under practiced control which was _more_ than impressive, and Cas found it difficult to look away. In fact, everyone who was there found it difficult to look away. The other parents in the room (all of them mothers, except Cas) stared at Dean with just as much enthusiasm. He was simply enjoyable to watch. Cas drank in the sight of him. He thought he was beautiful.

But the thought was met with a sudden unease in the pit of his stomach, and in his mind he was screaming  _What the hell is going on with me???_

Cas had never really confronted his own sexuality before. He had never contemplated it too much, but since he was a teenager he knew that there was always a possibility that he was more than simply _straight_. He noticed a good-looking man when he saw one (although Dean Winchester was more than just  _good looking_ to him), but that was the extent of it. He had spent a good portion of his life with Meg, and before her he had only had one other girlfriend in high school. He didn't even remember the girl's name. But still, whether or not he would have dabbled in a little experimenting, he had no idea. All he knew was that the aesthetics of certain men pleased him, on more than just a friendly level. With Dean, Cas didn't even hesitate to form an attraction, and that worried him.

Of course, he knew that there was really nothing from stopping him.

His attraction to Meg was alive, but just barely. There was no spark there for either of them.

Yet Cas hadn't even thought about relationships with anyone else other than his wife. And it wasn't because he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her (he _honestly_ didn't, just the thought of it made him sick), but he wanted to stay together for Emily. She was worth the burden he and Meg had placed on themselves, more so than anything else. Cas could look at Emily and find pride within himself just for being her _father._ He would live like this forever if he had to. He wanted Emily to live in a household with a mom and a dad and family dinners every night.

He wanted better for her than what he had as a child, living without a father and shielding himself from the poison in his mother's words.

No, he wouldn't do that to Emily. He wouldn't leave her with Meg.

So to be  _this_ attracted to someone he barely even knew- someone of the same _sex,_ to make things worse _-_  made him wipe his sweaty palms on the sides of his trousers.

 _Get a hold of yourself,_ he thought, but even as he said it in his mind he couldn't help but look over at Dean, who was holding his arms out to either side of himself and tapping his feet rhythmically. His students behind him mirrored his movements in their clumsy, childish manner, and Cas could see Emily towards the back of the room working on her steps with her mouth pursed in concentration. Cas smiled at her, and when she looked up at him for a split second he gave her two thumbs-up.  She lifted her head and grinned, faltering in her steps.

"Good job!" Cas mouthed, and winked.

Emily blushed, and, realizing she was off-beat, focused her attention back on the dance.

 _For her._   _Everything you do is for her. Don't forget that._

A minute later, the dance routine ended, and the parents all stood up to applaud. 

"Thanks for coming, guys," Dean said to everyone as they began filing out of the room.

 Emily sprinted over to Cas, and jumped into his outstretched arms.

"You have fun, pumpkin?" he asked.

She nodded frantically, folding her hands together behind Cas's neck. "That was so much fun! When can I come back? Please please please say I can do it forever! When's the next class, Daddy?  _Please_ , I really wanna do it again!"

Cas tossed his head back and laughed. 

"Yeah, you can do it however long you want to, Em!"

She squealed, and as Cas carried her through the door he was stopped by a sudden:

"Excuse me?" 

Cas turned around, only to see that Dean was standing right behind him. He was smiling- grinning, actually- and Castiel gulped. 

Dean Winchester was even prettier up close, and Cas had to restrain himself from moving his eyes further down his body.

"Hello," Cas said.

"I don't mean to bother you," Dean's eyes flickered to Emily and then back to Cas. "I was just wondering if you and I could talk about the details of this class, Mr..." 

"Novak. Castiel Novak," Cas answered.

"Right," Dean said, nodding. He looked at Cas for a second without saying anything, before clearing his throat.

"If you guys wanna follow me down the hall, I have an office down there and we can talk about how often Emily's going to be taking this class..." he smiled at Emily, who blushed and smiled back. "...the fee, all of that stuff. It won't take that long."

"Oh yeah, sure," Cas mumbled, and he followed Dean out of the dance studio and down the hallway. Along the way, Emily whispered to her father that she had to use the restroom, so he let her down and he and Dean watched her run off to the ladies room.

"She's a great kid," Dean mentioned, and Cas nodded.

"Yeah, she is."

Dean's office turned out to be little more than just a desk with a computer sitting on it and a few chairs. Cas sat down in one, and Dean went around to the other side of the desk to log onto his computer.

"Um, I just want to say, I'm sorry if I was rude...earlier. When you came in with your daughter." Dean didn't look at Cas, but it was plain to see how embarrassed he was. Cas smiled.

"It's fine," he said. "I'm sorry we were late."

"Oh no, that's ok!" Dean reassured. "Parents are late with their kids all the time. It's just, I, you know, you kinda burst in really loud and stuff and I...ha, it kinda caught me off guard, I guess." Dean laughed, and Cas thought to himself how lovely it would be to listen to that sound on repeat. Dean laughing. It was a wonderful thing. 

Cas beamed, and looked down at his lap. As Dean clicked away on his computer- presumably pulling up documents and such- Cas took the opportunity to ask him a question.

"So, how long have you been teaching dance?"

Dean sighed. "I think this is gonna be my...fourth year? I graduated college four years ago, and then got this job right after that." His eyes flickered over to Cas for a second. "I um, kinda got a late start on college. I joined when I was twenty-five."

"Aw, don't worry about that," Cas said, waving his hand. "I didn't finish law school for six years! Drank too much and studied too little." 

Dean chuckled at that, glimpsing over at Cas again. His smile was art-worthy.

They talked about the specifics of Emily's lessons, and decided that twice a week- every Monday and Thursday- Emily would take tap with other kids her age. The cost was $25 per month. Doable. Afterwards Dean walked him out of his office and Cas caught a glimpse of Emily talking to another young girl in the lobby.

"So, I don't know if you know this or not but I, um, actually know your brother." Cas watched Dean's face for any sort of recognition, but Dean only met his gaze with a confused look.

"Do you?"

Cas cleared his throat. "Yeah. Sam Winchester. I work with him. I'm a lawyer, so..." 

"Oh..." Dean looked away for a second, and then realization hit him.

"Oh! Yeah, he's mentioned you before, I think! You were the one who kinda trained him, right? When he first started working at the firm?"

"Yes, that's me," Cas said. He looked down at his shoes before looking back up at Dean. 

_He told Dean about me. Maybe he said some good things._

"Well, it's nice that I got the chance meet you," Dean said. He smiled.

They stood like that for a moment, staring at each other. Cas memorized the freckles sprinkled on Dean's cheeks and nose, and the little nick below his bottom lip. Dean's eyes roamed over Cas's face too, and there was a very distinct expression that flickered across his face for a second, then was gone instantly. Cas wasn't sure what it was, but it looked significant. Familiar. They both stood like that for a while, simply looking at each other, until Cas realized what they were doing and he cleared his throat.

"I need to, I have to go," he said, pointing towards the lobby, and Dean blinked a few times.

"Oh! Yeah, of course. Like I said, it was nice meeting you, Cas. I hope- Maybe we'll see each other next time."

"Yeah! I think I'll be bringing Emily to her classes from now on, so... see you Thursday?" 

"Thursday," Dean confirmed, and watched as Castiel walked out to the lobby and motion for Emily to take his hand. She ran over to him, and before they walked out, Cas looked back at Dean, who smiled and waved. Cas smiled back.

* * *

 On the ride home, Cas tried focusing on what his daughter was saying from the back seat of the car (it was something along the lines of "I CAN'T WAIT TO GO BACK ON THURSDAY DADDY I'M SO SO  _SOOO_ EXCITED!"), but his mind kept wandering back to Dean. To well-muscled arms and a crooked smile and stubble and-

 _No._ Castiel would  _not_ let himself get carried away with this. What the hell was he even doing? What he had was a crush, a schoolboy crush on a man he had just met, who taught  _dance_ for a living to five-year-olds. And Cas was married. So what if he hated it? So what if the thought alone of going back to Meg every night made his skin crawl? So what if there were walls of stone separating him from his wife? So what? Did that make it ok? Absolutely  _not._ No, not at all.

Not to mention that Castiel was worrying himself over a man who had obviously held no sort of attraction for him at all. Hell, Cas wasn't even sure if the man was  _gay._ The fact that he taught  _tap dance_ had nothing to do with his sexuality. He was getting his hopes up. He was setting himself up for disappointment.

But every time he told himself that, his memory would just flicker back to the way Dean looked at him in the hallway at the dance school.

 _STOP THINKING ABOUT IT,_ he screamed mentally. No. He wouldn't ponder it anymore. He would go home with his daughter, make her dinner, sit down with his family and then finish his papers from work and go to bed. That was all he needed really. A little reality check. 

But when they got home, Cas still found himself thinking about Dean. Different parts of him with each different task he was supposed to be focusing on.

He thought about the muscles on Dean's shoulder's when he changed from his work suit into a more comfortable t-shirt and pair of sweats.

When Meg got home from work at about 6:20, he pictured Dean's plump mouth before kissing her square on the lips, with Emily watching them from the living room. He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth after he made sure no one was looking.

He contemplated the scar below Dean's mouth when he was cooking chicken for dinner, and as a result it came out a little crispier than intended (Meg only had to look at it sitting on her plate for a split second before pushing it away with a grimace).

He replayed Dean's laugh in his mind while sitting in the living room and watching cartoons with Emily.

Green eyes clouded his memory when he sat down to do his paperwork, and in the end, he just sighed defeatedly before leaving it where it was on his desk and padding down the hall to his room to go to sleep. Emily was all tucked in and snoring away. Castiel hadn't seen his wife since dinner time, after she had retreated back into their bedroom.

He walked in and immediately could see Meg lying asleep under the covers, facing the wall. Trying not to wake her up, he lifted the sheets and slid in carefully. Before he began to doze off he turned and faced opposite of Meg, trying to imagine that he was lying alone (something he had grown accustomed to doing out of habit these days). He could feel himself slipping into unconsciousness when Meg spoke up, jolting Cas awake.

"Do me a favor and let me know that you're going to ruin dinner next time so I can order out."

Castiel laid there, motionless and silent and staring into the darkness. In the back of his mind he chanted  _I hate you, I hate you, I hate you._

He didn't remember falling asleep that night, but before he knew it multiple hours had passed by in the dark and the next morning his eyes opened up to sunlit walls and a bright room.

* * *

Tuesday and Wednesday flew by, and during those two days Castiel had trained his mind to think about things other than Dean Winchester. 

Thursday came around, and he even with the knowledge that he would be seeing Dean soon, Cas still was able to function without thinking about it too much.

Then one of his clients came in who was in the process of getting a divorce. He was an older man named Kenneth (in his late 50s), and was divorcing his wife after meeting someone new.

Go figure.

"Do you have any idea what you plan to leave to your wife and keep yourself?" Castiel asked after they had sat down together in his office.

"She can have everything," Kenneth answered. He was only half-there. Cas could see that his mind was already wandering somewhere else as he looked out the window. "I don't care, honestly. I'll give her the house, the cars- hell, she can have all my  _clothes_ , if she wants them. I have everything I need now, everything she couldn't give me before."

Cas furrowed his eyebrows, and cleared his throat.

"I- um...are you  _sure?_ " 

Ken looked at him, and sighed.

"You know...everyone thinks I'm a shitty person for wanting this. My wife thinks I'm a shitty person, my kids think I'm a shitty person. Hell,  _you_  even probably think I'm a shitty person. And that sort of thing usually would bother me, but now I honestly don't care. I just don't. The whole world could be against me and I wouldn't care. Because you know what? I'm in love. For the first time in years, I'm in love. I mean, sure, my wife is a great person, but I don't  _love_ her. Sometimes I wonder if I ever did. Maybe I was just an idiot when I married her, maybe I really did love her. Either way, I don't now, and I don't plan to anytime soon. I love someone else. I found someone who makes me  _happy._ And it has nothing to do with the fact that she's ten years younger and has great tits either. She's just the  _one_ for me. I can feel it. So, yes, I'm sure. Give my wife everything. I'm sure."

Cas's expression remained neutral as he nodded and handed over paperwork for Ken to fill out. 

But his mind was turning over and over and it took all of his strength not to picture Dean's face.

_Do. not. go. there._

* * *

 

At 3:45, Cas was walking quickly towards the door, determined this time not to make Emily late for her tap lesson. 

At 3:46, he was heading down three stories in the elevator to the garage to pick up his car.

At 3:47, he sprinted past a wide arrange of expensive, brand-new cars owned by a wide arrange of wealthy lawyers who worked in the building. Parked next to a shiny black Porsche 911 Carrera was his 2008 Kia Sedan.

He was unlocking the door when he heard Sam calling his name.

He turned around to see Sam running towards him, his wild hair flapping comedically over his shoulders. How many times Cas told him to get a damn haircut, he didn't even know. Too many times, though, way too many.

"Hey, Sam!" Cas greeted just as Sam caught up to him. "Listen, I can't really talk right now, I gotta get to the babysitter's house and take Emily to her dance class."

"Oh, right!" Sam said, a little breathless. "I forgot. I was just on my lunch break and came down here to get something from my car. I just saw you and thought I'd say bye before you left. Sorry, I won't keep you!"

"That's ok!" Cas said with a laugh. "See ya, Sam," He clambering into his car. Sam smiled and moved to the side so Cas could back out. Just as he was about to turn the car away and drive off, Sam went up to his car door and and tapped on the glass. Cas raised his eyebrows, rolling down the window.

"Hey, sorry, I just wanted to tell you, I saw my brother yesterday and he mentioned you. He said you were nice. And he said Emily was a real sweetheart."

Cas stared at Sam.

"He said that?"

"Yeah, man. I'm glad you guys finally got to meet! I told him you were awesome."

Cas looked down at his hands on the steering wheel, and back up at Sam.

"Thanks, Sam. He was really nice too."

Sam nodded, then held his hands up to Cas.

"Ok, I won't keep you any longer. See you later, buddy."

Sam walked off towards his car as Cas drove through the garage. On the road, he went as fast as he could through the level of traffic towards Naomi's house.

At 3:53, Cas pulled up by the curb to see Emily and Naomi once again sitting patiently on the front step, and Cas didn't even have time to get out of his car before Emily picked up and ran down to him. She pulled open the back door, climbing in eagerly. Cas waved goodbye to her babysitter before driving off.

At 3:58, Cas and Emily raced up to the front door of the Roger Robin's Dance School.

At 3:58, Cas held Emily's hand as they entered the tap dance room.

No blundering in this time. No awkward confrontations.

Dean met Cas's eyes as soon as they walked in. He was talking to one of the mothers, but looked up immediately when Cas came through the door. His eyes were warm, and they crinkled at the edges when he smiled.

Cas almost didn't notice when Emily had let go of his hand to run over and join the other students. He returned Dean's smile and sat in a chair right by the door.

Dean didn't say anything to him that day, but Cas noticed that when the dancer instructor sat down to do stretches with the kids his eyes continued to flicker over at Cas every once in a while. At one point during the class, Cas was watching his daughter chat animatedly with another little boy when he looked over at Dean and found that he was already staring at him. Dean's eyes widened and he looked away quickly, but Cas's stomach nonetheless gave a little flutter that he tried desperately, and failed, to ignore. 

 _He was just looking, it doesn't mean anything._   _You're married, you have a child. Stop hoping for something that isn't going to happen._

But in the back of his mind, Ken's words from earlier that day kept replaying over and over and over again.

_"Maybe I was an idiot when I married her, maybe I really did love her. Either way, I don't now, and I don't plan to anytime soon...I found someone who makes me happy."_

_Happy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So guys, I mentioned in the previous chapter note that I wanted to upload a new chapter once every week, but with school and work and stuff I have a lot of stuff on my plate that leaves barely any room for writing. I'll try as hard as I can, but even once a week is pushing it. I'm so sorry! I wish I could do this faster! But I do promise that I will try harder to upload more often!


	3. Smiley's Don't Mean a Damn Thing

Two weeks passed by.

Mondays and Thursdays were becoming the highlight of Cas's miserable life, even though he would never have admitted it out loud to anyone. He was even more excited for Emily's tap class than she was, and for a good reason. When he was sitting in the dance studio his eyes wandered back and forth between his daughter and Dean, and he had done a terrible job of not thinking about that man during the rest of the week. There were times when Cas would sit in his office and just picture Dean's features. There were favorite parts of him that Castiel paid attention to most- his eyes, mouth, freckles, arms, bow legs. The rest of him was gorgeous, truly, but those were the bits Cas liked best. He had them memorized as best he could but each time he saw Dean they were better than he had remembered and it made Cas weak in the knees. 

He was done trying to decide whether or not this whole crush made him gay. He wasn't gay.  _Just_ because he had a little trouble taking his eyes off of Dean didn't mean that he was gay.

Ok, maybe he was a little bit gay...but honestly, who wasn't? There was smoke there, a fogginess that Cas couldn't see through and he honestly didn't want to. It wasn't clear to him and that was ok. He didn't need to be clear on everything. Castiel was a man living a life he feared most as a child. Loveless. Without any thrill or stimulation. This, in a way, changed that for him. Now he wasn't just Castiel: lawyer in his early 30s with a daughter and a marriage like broken glass. He was, Castiel, lawyer in his early 30s with a daughter and a bitch of a wife _and_  a crush on a younger man. That was fine with him. He was done living the cookie-cutter facade. What happened to living like he used to when he was younger, with excitement and uncertainty? He wanted something that was real and honest-to-God _sloppy_ in his life. 

And there was really no reason to worry about his crush on Dean, until his daughter mentioned it from the back seat of the car one day after her third tap lesson.

"You look at Mr. Winchester a lot, Daddy," she said innocently, and he glanced at her wide-eyed in the review mirror. Her head was cocked to the side (something she got from her father) and her brows were furrowed.

"Wh...what makes you say that, pumpkin?" he stuttered.

Emily shrugged. "You just do. Sometimes when I'm dancing I try to get you to look at me but you just keep looking at him." There was no sadness in the way she said it, just fact.

Nonetheless, Cas's heart sank, and he slumped his shoulders. 

"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't know you were trying to get my attention. I promise I'll be better next time ok?" 

She perked up at that, fiddling with her fingers in her lap. "Ok, Daddy!"

And he did get better. He had to force himself to do it, but he would tear his eyes away from Dean in sweaty t-shirts and basketball shorts to watch Emily dancing away, pure joy on her face. He really did love her. God, he wanted her to have everything. He did. 

But did that mean he couldn't have  _this one little thing?_ _  
_

Not necessarily. He could look, he just wouldn't touch.

So that's what he did. He watched his daughter dance and at the same time would glance sideways at Dean, stretching and moving and grooving and bending and jumping and-

and watching him back. 

Dean often met his eyes during the class, and Castiel would be lying if he said it didn't make him delighted every time those radiant green eyes looked over in his direction. Of course, he knew it didn't necessarily mean anything. He could just be looking over for no reason, or maybe he wasn't even looking at him at all. Maybe Castiel was just getting too cocky and really Dean had been eyeing the young mothers sitting on either side of him, who smiled wickedly his way in hopes of grabbing his attention. Cas had to remember that he wasn't the only one with his focus set on Dean. The other parents in the room ate him up with their gaze. They wanted him just as much as Cas did.

Well, maybe not  _as_ much.

But Cas tried not to get too caught up with his little obsession. Because chances were that Dean didn't harbor any interest in him. And even if he _did_ (but he probably didn't), Cas couldn't have him anyway.

And so two weeks passed by like that. Dean had burrowed his way under Castiel's skin and now there was no getting him out. Two weeks passed and Castiel could feel the weight on his shoulders being lifted just at the thought of seeing Dean again. Just knowing that a man like that was out there, that he even _existed,_ gave Castiel a sort of warmth in his mind and in his heart that was impossible to tame. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't deny that he was inexcusably attracted to Dean now. For the first time in years, he was beginning to feel an exhilarating flutter in his stomach and his life had begun to gradually brighten up.

And then his car broke down. 

It happened on Sunday, in the parking lot of a grocery store about thirty minutes from his house. It was Cas's day off and so he had originally planned on just lounging around the house all day, but the food in the fridge was becoming more and more scarce and there was nothing for Emily to eat that night.

Meg had taken her out an hour beforehand to buy supplies for Emily's birthday party, which was happening in a few days, and so Cas took the opportunity to go and pick up a cake too. Fortunately for him, the store still had one last ice cream cake available (which was Emily's favorite), and on it Cas had them write "Happy Birthday Emily" in bright orange icing.

Unfortunately, the cake was likely going to end up melting, now that there was no way for Cas to get home fast enough with his piece of shit car.

"You've got to be kidding me," he muttered, after he finished loading the groceries in the trunk and hopped into the driver's seat, only to hear the engine make a spluttering  _chu-chu-chu-chu-chu_ sound when he tried starting it. He sat there, staring blankly at the hood of his car, and tried it again. Still, the same noises, only this time they sounded fainter. Cas slammed his palms agains the steering wheel.

"God dammit!"

He threw open the car door and hopped out begrudgingly, making his way towards the trunk in search of a cable jump. After realizing that there wasn't one there, he sighed and let his head hang heavily between his shoulders, before reaching into his pocket for his phone and calling Meg.

She answered on the fourth ring.

"Yeah?"

 "Hey, um..." Cas sighed again. "I don't know what happened, but the engine on my car won't start and I'm stuck at the grocery store on Flamingo."

Meg was quiet, and Cas could hear a slight shuffling sound on the other line.

"Ok," she replied. "Well, me and Em are still looking around for party stuff. Ummm...do you think you could hang on for, like, a _few_ more hours?"

" _A few more hours?"_ Cas exasperated. He scoffed and shook his head. "Meg, I've got Emily's cake in the trunk and it's going to melt soon."

"Ok, I didn't tell you to get her a cake," Meg said, clearly irritated. "I don't know what you want me to do. Even if we were to leave right now, I wouldn't make it to you in probably forty-five minutes. And that would mean that Emily wouldn't be able to get her party stuff. Do you want her to come home upset?"

Cas clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to curse at his wife in the middle of a grocery store parking lot. He breathed in deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose, and was just about to respond to Meg when he heard a recognizably gruff voice from behind him.

"Castiel?"

Cas turned around, knowing that it was Dean before he even saw him.

Dean was clutching a few grocery bag in one hand, and tucked under his other arm was a package of water bottles. He stood plainly, donned in a green coat and jeans, and Cas was suddenly aware of the fact that this was the first time he had seen Dean in something other than his usual dance attire. It was weird, but Cas found it to be ordinarily beautiful and there was something about Dean's casual clothes that made Cas stare. He was aware of Meg repeating his name over and over again on the other line, but he gave her a quick "I'll call you back" and hung up the phone without taking his eyes off of Dean.

"Hey," he said with nonchalance, and Dean's face broke out into a wide smile that drew in Castiel like a moth to a porch light.

"What a coincidence, huh?" Dean said brightly, and Cas nodded with a stupid grin. 

"Yeah, I, uh-" he paused, suddenly remembering his current situation with the car, and motioned towards it with a hand. "I was just having some trouble with my car."

Dean's eyebrows raised, and he shifted the package of bottles under his arm. 

"Really?" he said, his voice edged with slight curiosity. "Because, if you want, I can maybe help you out with that."

 Without giving Cas a chance to say anything, Dean set down his groceries on the ground where he stood and made his way towards the hood of the car. Cas blinked, watching as Dean strode over, before rushing to follow behind him.

"A-Are you sure?" Cas stuttered, opening the front door so he could pop open the hood. Dean watched it swing open, before sticking the hood prop into place and crouching over to get a look at the engine. "I mean, all I really need is to jump start it...I think."

Dean's eyes raked over the contents of Cas's car, his mouth pursed in concentration, and he reached in to fiddle with some of the parts that Castiel had no clue what to even do with. He had never really been a car type of guy. He could do a quick oil change every once in a while, or maybe change a tire if it went flat sometimes, but other than that, he was clueless about the specifics of it all. He watched from the side as Dean checked out different parts of the contraption, and he couldn't help but watch those skilled fingers flicker about. After a moment, Dean spoke up.

"Naw," he pronounced, shaking his head. "That won't help. Luckily, it's not bad. I can fix it for you in a few seconds, actually. It looks like your battery posts are just corroded." He looked up at Cas, who stood there with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Dean smiled lopsidedly, and Cas's heart skipped a beat. Seeing Dean leaning over his car like that,  _smiling_ at him like that- whew. It did things to him.

"The battery is a little dirty, I mean," Dean clarified, and Cas uttered a small "oh", nodding his head. "I can clean it up for you really quickly."

Cas sighed with relief, his shoulders relaxing. "Oh, thank God," he said, and Dean chuckled. 

"I take it you don't know much about cars?"

Cas could feel his face getting hot at that, and he fidgeted with his hands, trying not to look so embarrassed.

"Ah, not really," he said with a laugh, and was surprised to hear Dean laugh along with him.

"That's ok, man. Not everyone can be a genius about everything."

When Dean said it would only take him a few seconds, he wasn't lying. He brought out a bottle of Pepsi from one of his grocery bags, and let a small amount dribble onto the posts of the car battery, then wiped it off carefully with a rag Castiel had lying around in his car. As he was doing it, he tried to explain to Castiel what he was doing, and how the acidity from the soda was supposed to get rid of all the excess dirt and  _blah blah blah_. Cas didn't really hear a single word he said, because he was too busy focusing on the movements of his nimble fingers and the soft plumpness of his mouth to pay attention to what he was saying. 

Afterwards, Dean walked back over to his pile of groceries sitting on the ground and picked them up, struggling a little with his pack of water bottles. 

"Let me get that," Cas offered, and ignored Deans protests by prying the waters from under his arm.

"I had it, man!" Dean said with a laugh, but still led Cas over to where he parked his car, a few rows down from his own. Cas nearly dropped the heavy case in his hands when he saw the car Dean had.

"Wow," he breathed, staring at the sleek blackness of it. He could tell it was an Impala, and the fact that it was an older make was plain to see. It was beautiful, really, and it matched Dean perfectly. Looking over at Dean, Cas saw him turn a light shade of red before he turned away, opening up the back door of the car.

"This is...an amazing car," he said, eyes roaming. Dean stuck his grocery bags in and turned back to Cas, who saw that he was smiling that lopsided smile again. He handed Dean the case of waters, smiling back at him.

"Thanks, dude," Dean said, not quite meeting his eyes. "It was my dad's."

Cas nodded, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his jeans as Dean threw the bottles into the backseat and shut the door. They stood for a second, neither of them exactly sure of what to say, and when Cas looked up at Dean he saw that he was being stared at. Dean's green eyes met his steadily, and they flickered around his face, restlessly searching. This time, Cas didn't interrupt him, but simply stood there and stared back. There was a slight breeze that blew around the hairs on Dean's hairline, and Cas could imagine his own fingers carding their way through the light brown locks.

"Would you like to come to Emily's birthday party this week?" he suddenly said.

As soon as the words were out, he immediately regretted saying them. His mouth snapped shut, and Dean's eyebrows rose in surprise.

 _What the hell am I even doing???_ Cas thought.

But before he could take back the invitation, Dean interjected, "Is it really her birthday this week? When?"

Cas stuttered. "Well, ah- not this week, actually, it was a few weeks ago but we just...haven't had the time to celebrate until now. But her party's on Wednesday..."

Dean nodded, contemplative, and smiled warmly at Cas. 

"I'd love to go."

Castiel blinked, frowning at Dean.

"Really?"

"Oh yeah," Dean said, nodding with enthusiasm. He shrugged, burying his hands in his coat pockets. "She's a good kid, you know? I'd love to surprise her or something."

 Castiel couldn't help himself. His face broke out into a wide grin, and he scrambled around for a piece of paper. 

"Ok, cool! Um..." He found his cellphone instead, hidden inside his pocket, and pulled it out. 

 _What a perfect opportunity,_ he thought to himself, and said to Dean in a steady voice, "What's your number? I'll text you the details."

Dean recited his cell number to Castiel, and afterwards when Cas turned his screen towards Dean to make sure he got it right, he felt Dean's fingers brush against his as the man reached out to touch his phone. 

Dean nodded, looking back at Castiel, who was struggling to ignore the sparks of fire set loose from where he had been touched.

"So, um...I'll text you," Castiel muttered.

They said goodbye, and Cas hurried back to his car, suddenly remembering the ice cream cake he had stored in the trunk, which was likely halfway melted at this point.

* * *

Cas must have read, re-written, and re-read his text to Dean about 400 times before actually sending it. He didn't know why, all it was was the time of Emily's party and the address to their house, but somehow he felt nervous as he hit the 'send' button, staring at the screen of his phone for about twenty seconds before putting it away.

A few minutes later, he heard his phone make a slight  _ping_ noise and saw that Dean had texted back.

_Gotcha, thanks for the info! I'll see you guys tomorrow in class! :)_

Cas thought about Dean for the rest of the day, and about his text.

_What do smiley's mean? Don't they usually mean something flirty? No, no no. I'm over thinking this. That was a very platonic, very simple response. Smiley's don't mean a damn thing._

When Meg got home with Emily later that night, she found Cas sitting in his office, typing away on his computer for something work-related.

"Hey," she said.

"Smiley's don't mean a damn thing," he muttered to himself, and Meg frowned.

"What?"

"Nothing," he sighed. He looked up from his computer screen to meet her piercing gaze.

"I take it you got home in one piece, anyway," Meg mentioned, her stare blank. Cas rolled his eyes.

"Yeah."

"How?"

"I, uh..." He paused. "I ran into Em's dance teacher in the parking lot. He, um, works with cars and stuff, so he offered to help." _  
_

Meg nodded, looking up at the ceiling.

"I invited him to her birthday party, by the way," Cas added.

Meg snapped her eyes back to Cas, and he couldn't help but flinch a little when she hit him with her glare, cold and empty.

"Why?"

"Because...because Em really likes him. And because he helped me out."

Meg stared at him, and he pretended not to care by looking back at his computer screen and resume his typing, but really he could feel his face burning and he had a strong desire to close the door on his wife.

Luckily, she said no more, and simply turned around to walk away. Cas sighed, relaxing his shoulders.

_Smiley's don't mean a damn thing._

* * *

Cas knew he shouldn't, _knew_ that this was a bad idea, but somehow couldn't find it in him to care, as he made his way down the hall at work towards Sam's office the following Monday.

He knocked on the door timidly.

"Yeah?" Sam called from inside, and Cas cracked open the door just enough to poke his head in.

"Got a minute?"

Sam looked up from the piles of papers scattered around his desk and his face broke out into a smile when he saw Cas.

"Yeah, man! Come on in!"

Cas shuffled in, suddenly unsure of what he wanted to say to Sam, who was looking at him expectantly. 

"Something wrong?" Sam asked, brows furrowed. Cas shook his head.

"No, no. I was just wondering, uh..." He shifted on his feet, fiddling with a button on his suit. "Um...you know..."

He paused.

"You wouldn't happen to have those files concerning the Melwig couple in here, would you?"

Sam's face smoothed out, and he looked around the room. "Umm, I don't think so. Hang on, give me a sec."

Cas sighed internally, kicking himself. _Just ask him, dammit!_

But he couldn't. 

Honestly, for he past few weeks since meeting Dean, Cas had been fighting off the urge to pry more information out of Sam about his older brother. About what his brother was like, what type of person he was, what music he listened to, and which TV shows he liked best. What did he do in his free time? Did they spend a lot of time together? Did Dean live alone? Was there someone else in his life? 

What made Sam think he was gay?

He was dying to know, dying to figure about everything about Dean. Dean was just too interesting. Everything about him made Cas imagine who he was when he wasn't in the dance studio, surrounded by twenty adoring kids.

When Dean had been helping him out with his car the day before, Cas wanted to peek over at Dean's grocery bags, to see what he was buying. Not in a creepy way, but just out of curiosity. Why did he have so many water bottles? Why, why? Was he buying some for himself and another person? Another girl, maybe, that he shared a house with? A house with a freshly-mowed lawn in the front? Dean seemed like the kind of guy to keep his lawn looking nice. Did he come home after work to a girl and drink water with her and listen to bad pop music and watch MTV?

Cas blinked, suddenly aware that Sam had said something to him.

"What?"

Sam was standing over at one of the filing cabinets in the corner of his office, flipping through a number of files.

"I said I don't think it's in here, man. It may be in Baltz's office, though, you may wanna ask him."

"Oh," Cas said, turning towards the door. He opened it quietly, and Sam sat back down at his desk. "Thanks, anyway."

"Sure thing, man," Sam said, looking at him. "Are you sure that's all you need?"

Cas opened his mouth. He wanted to say 'No. No, it's not. Tell me about him; your brother. Tell me. Tell me so that I won't be lying in bed awake every night, wondering what the hell kind of toothpaste he uses and what his shoe size is.' But he didn't say that. Instead, he smiled and said:

"That's it. See you later, Sam."

* * *

That day, Cas and Dean went about their usual routine of glancing sideways at each other during the dance class, and pretending not to notice when the other one did it. They didn't speak until the end, when Cas was carrying a very jittery Emily out of the studio, laughing at her, at Dean called goodbye to them from the other side of the room where he was talking to one of the mothers. Cas turned around, smiled and waved goodbye.

"Bye Mr. Winchester!" Emily cried, waving over her father's shoulder.

"See you in a few days," Castiel added, and Dean nodded.

But he was wrong. It wasn't a few days until they saw each other again.

Because the next time he saw Dean was later that night, as Dean was making his way towards the stage inside a small bar lounge, guitar in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so writing this chapter was really frustrating because I couldn't decide whether or not I wanted to make it longer and continue on with a very important scene coming up in the next chapter not. But eventually I decided against it, and you guys are going to have to see next time what I mean. I'm really excited about the next part, I've been looking forward to writing it ever since I had the idea for this story!
> 
> Again, I'm sorry that my posting is so drawn-out, but I'm trying guys, I really am. I love reading your comments.
> 
> Let me know if there's anything you wanna say! Don't be shy, I welcome all comments and questions and suggestions! :)


	4. The Moon Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'M TRASH. I'M TRASH AND I KNOW IT PLEASE FORGIVE ME FOR NEVER EVEN RESPONDING TO SOME OF YOUR REQUESTS TO FINISH THE GODDAMN STORY. I'M JUST COLLEGE-STUDENT TRASH THAT STRESSES OUT SO MUCH ABOUT SCHOOL AND WORK THAT I CAN'T EVEN REPLY TO YOUR GOD DAMN REQUESTS. AND I KNOW THIS SOUNDS DOUCHEY BUT I WAS ACTUALLY REALLY GLAD TO SEE THAT YOU GUYS CARED SO MUCH ABOUT THE STORY, EVEN THOUGH I DIDN'T GOD DAMN ANSWER. I'VE BEEN PUTTING IT OFF OK? I DON'T EVEN HAVE A GOOD EXCUSE AND I'M TRASH AND I'M SORRY! BUT I'M BACK NOW. 
> 
> PLEASE KEEP IN MIND HOWEVER THAT I HAVE NOT EVEN READ WHAT I'VE WRITTEN SO FAR UNTIL A WEEK AGO. I'M JUST NOW RETURNING TO IT AFTER MANY MANY MONTHS SO WRITING MIGHT BE A LITTLE SLOW AT FIRST. I JUST HAVE TO RESUME MY RYTHYM AND IT'LL BE OK. ANYWAYS, THIS HAS BEEN A PSA. I'M TRASH. NOW HERE'S THE CHAPTER SUMMARY:
> 
> Castiel and Dean meet in an unlikely setting outside of their usual ones. This time, it's at a lounge, where Castiel gets the chance to see Dean in a completely new light, and their relationship finally begins to take a turn. I'm horrible at writing chapter summaries. Bye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in case you guys don't see it, I put a link to the song in the story, if you guys want to listen to it as you read. I would really highly recommend it. This is the song that inspired me to write this story. It's a duet, but Dean sings it alone in the story. Thanks, guys!
> 
> Also, I know that I haven't updated in a very long time. Because of that, I'm going to try and update more often...maybe??? Idk we'll see how it works out, but I want you guys to stay interested in the story and I really want to make up for how long of a break I took from the story. As of right now, it's unclear how much time I'll actually have to write, but I'll try I promise!

**Dean's POV**

Dean had never felt so pissed at himself before.

Before Castiel Novak, there were so many things-  _important_ things- to occupy himself with. As of now, though, he was finding it difficult to remember exactly what those _things_ were.

He had two jobs, both of which he loved immensely, and fulfilled him to a point which was almost surreal. In a way, he felt that they sometimes were a direct reflection of how he lived his life: ironically and in opposition of his own self. One of his jobs he spent sweating in greasy t-shirts and handling complicated mechanisms for other people who couldn't do it themselves. The other he spend prancing around while surrounded by children. He knew what people thought about him, and understood how parents reacted when they rolled their broken-down cars into Singer's auto shop, only to be greeted by their kid's dance teacher. "I thought you were gay," one of his student's dad had even said to him on one occasion, while watching him sweat over his car's poorly maintained engine. But Dean was never one to care much about what other people said, or even thought. He knew what made him happy, and knew what he liked. The people that he was closest to, like his best friends, accepted him the way he accepted himself. They didn't even bat an eye when Dean would publically tease and flirt with men and women alike. That was what he valued.

But there were people that he still loved and cared about that didn't know who he truly was, and that made him feel worse than anything.

Like Sammy. God, there were a million things that he wish he could just tell his little brother, but the fear of rejection and disapproval from Sam weighed too heavily in the back of his mind. They had a pretty good relationship, and after the childhood they lived through- _survived_ , really- they never lost the instinct to protect each other from whatever came their way. Maybe that's what it was, too, for Dean. It was possible that he was just trying to protect Sam from the kind of ridicule that Dean received simply because of his sexuality. He knew that he could handle it himself, but didn't know if he could cope with Sam seeing it too.

Underneath the crippling fear, however, he knew that Sam would most likely accept him for who he was, and that Dean really had nothing to worry about. But...he didn't know. It was just too big of a risk to lose another one of his family members, especially after all the ones he'd already lost. Some to death, like his mother, Mary. And others, like his father John, he lost to close-mindedness and emotional distance.

John knew about Dean. Ever since he had caught him at seventeen in the middle of a full-fledged make out session with one of his male "friends" in his bedroom, John's abusive behavior towards his oldest son had increased to the point where he stopped talking to him. For years, Dean had experienced calls that went straight to John's voicemail, letters sent to John's house that were returned back to Dean without having been opened, and eventually John's change of address that he refused to disclose to his sons. After the fifth year of trying to reach out desperately to his father, Dean gave up. He was through with caring more about others than they did about him, and vowed to only keep close a handful of friends that he knew he could trust. Since then anyway, his "boss" at the auto repair shop, Bobby, had become pretty much like a father to him, and Dean was happy with that. Did he still think about his father? Yes. Did he still feel a pang of loss and sadness at their broken relationship? Of course. But he accepted that there was nothing more he could do about it.

His closest friends in the entire world, Charlie and Kevin, made up for a lot of the bad childhood he had by pretty much acting like a couple of children themselves. They never failed to make him laugh, and he spent almost every day with him, when he wasn't busy with work. Often times, they both would push Dean to go ahead and just _tell_ Sam who he really was, and what he'd been hiding for so long. Now after being introduced to Castiel, who worked with his brother, Dean was more often than not tempted to pick up the phone and spill his guts out to Sam.

But how do you suddenly tell your little brother that, for years, you've been occupying yourself with the company of not only beautiful women, but beautiful men, too?

And how do you suddenly tell your little brother that you've recently developed an overly-fervent crush on his older, married coworker?

* * *

On a particularly special night, Dean had left the dance school late in the evening and arrived at a lounge that you could frequently find him at, called Lafitte Lounge.

He sat amidst the crowd, a cushion of familiar faces and unfamiliar faces looming about, with their eyes all pointed towards the stage. 

He came here often, especially on his days off, because it was warm and Lafitte Lounge was dark and it made him feel plain to sit there and listen to poets and musicians and comedians cranking out their best stuff on stage, night after night. He loved it because there was no point to it all, but nobody questioned the intentions of those who stood up there, dim lights silhouetting their frames. There was no reason, no need. But still, they climbed up the steps at the side of the stage and stood square in the center, so sure of themselves. Dean gave everyone props, whether they were actually good or not, because it took guts to stand in a room with people you hardly knew and give pieces of yourself to them. The stage was open to anyone who wanted it, and Dean himself had gone up there a few times before with his guitar to croon out something he thought sounded appropriate in the dark setting. He wasn't terrific, he knew, but there was something smokey and raw about his voice that made people lean towards him when he was performing, eager for more. 

Mostly, though, he just sat in a circle with some friends (mostly just Charlie and Kevin), and strummed absentmindedly on his guitar, watching the crowd flutter about and then settle back down. They had their usual spot; a rounded couch shaped like a half-circle, with a coffee table sitting in front of it and a flickering candle burning in the center of it. Charlie would sit on one side of him, Kevin on the other, and anyone who felt like coming over would usually sit in one of the soft leather chairs across from them. The couch wasn't big enough to fit more than five people, and some nights other people sat there, other nights Charlie would prop her feet up and lean against Dean, her scarlet hair fanned out across his shoulders. Kevin took classes down at Wichita, studying biological sciences, and so a lot of the time he would end up draping himself over half the couch, head snuggled in between cushions and snoring away lightly. Both Dean and Charlie had told him countless times that he didn't have to go with them to Lafitte Lounge anymore if he was too tired, but he ignored them and showed up nine times out of ten, falling asleep within two hours of being there. 

Benny Lafitte owned the lounge, and so it only took a matter of time after Dean started visiting regularly to get to know the man personally, often times leaning over the bar with a lopsided smile, chatting the man up. He was good looking, Dean gave him that. And fit, too. Dean could see the outline of muscles under his dark t-shirts, and that was something worth talking to the man over. Of course, nothing ever happened, and Dean knew that Benny wasn't gay, but he couldn't help but feel smug after watching Ben's neck and face turn bright shades of red whenever he flirted. It was just something fun to do. What was the harm in that?

The lounge was particularly empty, however, on Monday, after Dean's last dance class. He had left the dance school at 7:00pm, giving a cheerful 'goodnight' to Rachel, who was still sitting at the front desk when he walked out. Charlie had texted him, telling him that she and Kevin were waiting for him down at the lounge, and that Kevin's eyes were already starting to droop. Dean let out a breathy laugh, typing out a quick reply before propping his guitar up in the passenger seat of the Impala and walking around to the driver's side to hop in. He always brought the guitar to the dance studio, even though he didn't always end up pulling it out. It was just a habit of his. 

When he arrived, he shifted the guitar case on his back and asked the woman at the bar for a vodka and soda, smiling at her as he did so. She was pretty- Jo, her name was. Dean knew she was attracted to him, but never really pursued him. Too shy, he assumed. But beautiful.

He spotted Charlie and Kevin right away, and lifted his drink above his head as he made his way through the crowd towards their usual spot- apologizing to everyone as he did so.

"Hey-o!" Charlie called, once she saw Dean, and scooted over to make room. Kevin grinned up at him, swirling his drink around in his hand.

"What took you so long?" he joked, and Dean rolled his eyes. 

"I can't believe you're still awake." Kevin laughed, shrugging his shoulders, and took a sip of alcohol.

 "How's dance?" Charlie asked as Dean sat down, adjusting his guitar to sit on his lap. He nodded.

"It was good. The kids were good."

"How's what's-his-face," Kevin interjected, and Dean grinned.

"Cas?" he asked. "Still gorgeous."

"I'm telling you, Dean, you gotta make a move," Charlie said, and Dean scoffed. 

"Stop saying that," he responded. "I told you, he's married. I've seen the ring. And I know his kid. And he's not gay."

"Ok, Dean," Charlie said, smirking, and Dean was about to say something else when he heard Benny's voice from up onstage.

"Ok, everyone!" he announced, and the crowd turned towards him, their eyes glinting in the shadows. 

"The stage is open to anyone who wants to come up here. Anyone?"

Dean could see already a few eager performers fiddling with their fingers, hesitant as to whether or not they should speak up first. They were scattered around, so easy to pinpoint. They were always there, always eager. Always bouncing on their toes. Dean almost didn't hear it when Charlie spoke up loudly.

"Why doesn't Dean go up there?" she offered, grinning at him. Dean frowned, and then laughed, pushing at her shoulder as she giggled back. 

"Cut it out, Charlie."

"I think that's a good idea too!" Kevin shouted from the other side, and Dean turned towards him.

"Kev-"

There was a murmur from the crowd- a few regulars who had seen Dean perform before nodded and chattered in agreement.

"Dean?" Benny said from the stage. He smiled down at Dean, who let out a breathy laugh and shook his head.

"You wanna come on up?"

Dean sighed, setting his drink down on the coffee table and standing up.

"Yeah, sure, why not?"

The crowd gave a low applause, as Charlie and Kevin hooted to Dean while he made his way towards the stage. He climbed the stairs two at a time, and winked at Ben when he reached the top. Benny coughed and looked away, rushing back down the stairs before anyone could see his face turning red. 

Dean dragged a stool up from the back of the stage with one hand, and with the other he swiveled his guitar so that it was facing the right way as he sat down lightly. The microphone needed a little adjusting, and as he lowered it he scanned the crowd, watching them watch him. It was dark in the room, and so he couldn't exactly make out anyone's face, but he could still see their eyes clearly. 

"Hello," he started softly, and the bodies of the crowd settled in to watch him onstage.

"I'm Dean, for those of you who don't know me. Uh..." 

He was still scanning the crowd. Towards the back of the room was the bar, and the gleam from some of the glass bottles shined in the darkness, glinting at him. The faces at the bar were all turned towards him, and Dean examined their eyes.

One pair, he noticed, were especially blue. They peppered the darkness like a couple of stars, pointed towards him, watching him. Big eyes, he noticed, and immediately realized-

_I've seen those eyes before._

Castiel stared at him, blue irises beaming, rapturing, beautiful. Dean's voice caught in his throat as he stared back, mouth gaping open like a fish.

"Uh."

Castiel didn't look away, and neither did Dean. Now that his own eyes were adjusting better to the darkness, Dean could make out the sharp lines of Castiel's face, see the cheekbones and the dark, floppy hair. He didn't realize how long he had been sitting there, staring stupidly into the dark room, until Charlie shouted at him from the couch.

"Do something already!"

The crowd laughed, a calm mumble, and Dean finally broke the stare as he looked down at his guitar.

"Sorry, uh..." He looked back up, eyes flickering towards Cas and then looking away, avoiding his stare.

"Is there anything you guys wanna hear?"

"Sing one of your own songs!" Charlie called, and the crowd grumbled in agreement.

"Um...ok."

Dean adjusted in his seat, mind reeling. 

_Castiel here. He's here._

"So...this is a song I wrote..." He gulped. "It's, um, it's called 'The Moon Song'."

The crowd stared.

"So, here I go, I guess..."

* * *

**Cas' POV**

Castiel had tensed as soon as he heard Dean's name being shouted out from a member of the crowd.

He had never been to Lafitte Lounge, but he already liked it from the moment he stepped in. It was dark and the atmosphere was light and there weren't so many people. A crowd, yes, but a small crowd. Perfect setting. 

There were tables and chairs and couches scattered around the lounge, but he ignored all of them as he headed straight towards the bar at the back.

An attractive young woman pranced over to him, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Usually she would have been the exact woman to attract Castiel, but his mind was already preoccupied with someone else. Already swimming with fresh new images of Dean Dean Dean Dean Dean. Dean's everything, his beautiful wholeness. The woman leaned her head towards Cas.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked politely.

"Just a soda, thank you," Cas answered, and turned around in his seat to look out at the unfamiliar setting.

He didn't know what he was doing here, but some nights that happened and he usually just ended up wherever he hadn't been before. Nights like these pushed him towards his car, encouraged him to clutch the steering wheel hard as he drove down the road, unsure and uncaring of where to go. He and Meg had been fighting, which wasn't unusual, but this time she had taken it too far, bringing up his younger sister, Anna, and how his family was one collective piece of shit. Instead of fighting back, he watched her storm out of the bedroom, clenching his jaw, and waited for a few minutes before jumping up from the bed and stomping out of the house. He saw Meg sitting at the kitchen table with her head in her hands as he walked by, and she looked up at him. 

"Where the fuck are you going?" she hissed.

"I'll be back in an hour."

And so he had ended up here, sitting at a foreign bar in a foreign lounge and watching a foreign crowd shuffle about, buzzing with conversation and simple life. 

Cas liked it.

He was nearly done with his drink when a dark-haired, muscular man stepped up onstage and ordered the crowd's attention. He waited for someone to volunteer themselves and go up onstage with some sort of prepared act.

That's when he heard it.

"Why doesn't Dean go up there?"

Cas froze, his glass halfway to his lips, and scanned the dark crowd of strangers wildly.

Dean? Dean.

And he saw him, almost instantly, sitting comfortably in a dark brown leather couch towards the left side of the lounge. There were two people, both sitting on either side of him, watching Dean the way Cas was. One of them, the one who Cas guessed had made the comment, was a woman with bright red, almost orange hair. It was startling in contrast to the dim room, and on the other side of Dean sat a man slightly younger-looking, who had neatly combed black hair and dark circles under his eyes. Dean sat between them, wide-eyed, and laughed at the red-haired woman before pushing her shoulder gently. He said something to her that Cas couldn't make out, and then the man on the other side of Dean called out his agreement.

"I think that's a good idea, too!"

The next thing Cas knew, Dean had agreed to step up onto the stage. Cas watched him, unblinking, frozen with his glass lifted towards his mouth. As Dean sat down, his eyes roamed the crowd, and for a moment Cas was worried that he might see him sitting there.

_Don't be ridiculous, how can he see me from up there in such a dimly lit room?_

Still, as Dean greeted the crowd with his velvety voice, Cas's heart quickened, and he set down his glass without taking his eyes off of the stage.

It was then that Dean's eyes met his.

Cas stopped breathing, watching, waiting for Dean's eyes to continue their journey across the room. But they didn't. They stuck to him, melting through the air and Castiel couldn't move. Couldn't stop looking back. Was he scared? Of course not. He was nervous. His heart fluttered wildly in his chest, and before he knew it the same red-haired woman shouted something at Dean that broke him out of his reverie, and Dean's eyes flickered away, then back to Cas, then away again.

Dean mumbled something into the microphone, but Cas couldn't hear what it was because his ears were red hot and all he could do was watch Dean, watch as he shifted on the stool he was sitting on and brought his hands to the guitar on his lap. But just before his fingers brushed across the strings, he leaned forward and whispered:

"One, two, three, four."

[And then there was music.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Twg25xkACwo)

There was music, floating out into the atmosphere and buzzing through Cas like an electric shock, sending tingles down his spine. It swallowed Cas whole with the way it dropped in cascades over him, through him, around him. Mellow. Wonderful. Impeccably lovely. It was calm, but the hairs on the back of Cas's neck were standing on end. It was beautiful. Dean was beautiful. He opened his mouth.

_I'm lying on the moon._

_My dear, I'll be there soon._

_It's a quiet, starry place._

_Times we're swallowed up_

_in space,_ _and we're_

_a million miles away._

Castiel was so frozen, helpless against the suddenness of it all. He wanted to leave, but he also wanted to stay. He wanted to watch Dean like this for hours, eyelashes brushing against his freckled cheeks as he looked down at his guitar. Fingers strumming like he was the wind, and Castiel was air. Because that's what it felt like. Dean blew through him easily. Whirled around him, unsettled him. Shoved at him, pushed against his chest. Castiel was lost to it, to the way Dean's lips parted and breathed out the all-knowingness of the words. They tumbled out, charging towards Castiel, striking his body. And Cas didn't do a damn thing to stop it. He waited for more, waited for the words. He hung on them by thin silver strings, reached out for them. He wanted everything that was Dean. He couldn't care less about anything else that was happening around him, couldn't be bothered by the bartender behind him, tapping her fingers against the counter in tune to Dean's song.

Dean's song.

That's what it was.

It was Dean, it belonged to him. The words belonged to him, the music belonged to him, the air in the lounge belonged to him. Cas belonged to that man. In that moment, Cas belonged to Dean, and he was thankful for it. Dean's song was beautiful.

_There's things I wish I knew._

_There's nothing I'd keep from you._

_It's a dark and shiny place,_

_but with you, my dear,_

_I'm safe, and we're_

_a million miles away._

Dean hummed for a small patch of his song, and still the sound of it bit at Castiel. 

_We're lying on the moon._

_It's a perfect afternoon._

_Your shadow follows me all day._

_Making sure, that I'm ok_

_and we're_

_a million miles away,_

_a million miles away,_

_a million miles away._

* * *

**Dean's POV**

Dean let the music fade, his fingertips pulling against the strings, and waited. 

He heard Charlie and Kevin first, whooping and hollering from their place on the worn leather couch, and then the entire crowd began to clap serenely. If Dean hadn't known better he would have thought that they were unimpressed, but they were merely calm.

His heart was thrashing in his chest, a dull pounding sound in his ears. He wanted so badly to glance over to where he knew Cas was sitting, but he didn't. Instead, he smiled thinly at the crowd, shifted his guitar over behind his back, and stood to walk off the stage. 

As soon as he was down the steps, he made a beeline for the men's restroom. He didn't even stop to explain to Charlie or Kevin, who paused mid-clap to stare in confusion as he hurried away. Their brows were furrowed and they were frowning, but Dean didn't really didn't feel like going over to sit back down with them at the moment. 

Once in the restroom, he leaned heavily against one of the sinks, staring at himself in the mirror. He saw himself the way others did- handsome man, very much so, but with a tiredness about him that was visible just under the surface. Other than the slight shade of circles under his eyes, he didn't look as exhausted as he felt most of the time. As of now, however, he appeared more likely to puke his guts out more than anything.

He turned and rushed quickly into one of the stalls, lifting up the toilet seat and sinking heavily to his knees. He propped his elbows on the edge of the toilet bowl and breathed deeply, disgusted with how much he was letting this get to him. _What the hell is wrong with me?_ he thought. _I'm about to vomit because one of my kids' parent is out there. Get it together, Dean._

He closed his eyes and sat up straight. Just before he was about to stand back up, however, he heard the bathroom door swing open.

"Ugh," he uttered, bracing himself on his knees to rise from the floor.

"...Dean...?" he heard, from a familiar- gorgeous- voice.

He froze, eyes opened wide, and slowly stepped out of the bathroom stall.

There Cas stood, in all his hunky dad-like glory, staring at Dean like he was imagining that he was there. Dean let out a shaky breath, and smoothed his sweaty hands over his thighs. He attempted a lighthearted smile, but he knew it probably looked more like a grimace to Cas, who furrowed his brows together.

"Uh...hey Castiel...fancy meeting you here, ha."

Cas blinked slowly, seemingly breaking out of whatever shock he was in before and looked Dean over once.

"Are you all right?" he asked, clearly concerned.

Dean looked to the bathroom stall with a small laugh and then back to Cas. "Yeah, um...I don't know, I just kinda felt kinda sick all of a sudden, I guess. I'm fine, though. Ha ha."

Cas raised his eyebrows, and his eyes flitted around the bathroom.

"Well...I didn't expect to see you here," he said, with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He looked back at Dean, this time with more interest and curiosity brimming in his eyes. "You can imagine how shocked I was to see you on that stage. You...I mean, that song you sang was really nice."

Dean couldn't help the proud grin that blossomed across his face. He looked at his shoes, nodding slightly, wondering if Cas could see the schoolboy crush that Dean clearly began to show towards him. The way he blushed and smiled and stared whenever Cas was around...he knew that he should try to contain it more, but felt that it was already too painfully obvious to try and hide anymore. He also knew that it definitely wasn't the proper way to act around one of his student's parents, especially one that was _married._ But somehow, he felt barely any kind of remorse. In a way, he wished that he could just steal Cas away and have him all to himself, but Dean still had a shred of dignity left within him and was aware that that wasn't a very nice thing to do to someone else's husband.

Before he got a chance to thank Cas for his compliment, however, he heard him say suddenly:

"Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"


End file.
